


Raising the Bar

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: Blades of Glory (2007)
Genre: M/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Their friendship had only existed in a dingy bar and even then, only barely."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raising the Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Written circa-2007: "This was, I think, supposed to be a small, single Chazz/Stranz drabble for the new bog100 LiveJournal community, and it turned into, um, about five separate-yet-interlocking drabbles. The idea sprang from a conversation with yunafirerose, and just took off from there."

Chazz Michael Michaels was a man's man.

That didn't mean he was gay. He'd come to terms with that well enough, he thought, probably even more than most straight guys, considering his profession. "I thought all you male skaters were fruits," one of his conquests, Martha or Mary or possibly Laura told him one night as he was fiddling with her bra. It had taken him less than five minutes to fully convince her otherwise.

No, Chazz Michaels was a God among men; the epitome of masculinity; the model of machismo others aspired to. It just came natural to him.

*

(Spring 1999)

He knew of Stranz vaguely by reputation pairs and singles skaters didn't really hang out much. By accident, they found that they frequented the same bar small, out of the way, never in short supply of alcohol or women, both cheap.

"Nice bling," Chazz commented fuzzily, already on his fourth glass. Stranz signaled the bartender for his own drink(s), and soon they were swapping stories like old school buddies.

"So, that MacElroy kid," Stranz finally acknowledged, tipping his chin in a way that was simple, yet elegant. "What a bitch, huh?"

Chazz raised his glass. "Hear, hear," he slurred appreciatively.

*

(Spring 2002)

He'd lost by a tenth of a point.

It wasn't fair their routines were so different, and yet, there was MacElroy's face on every TV screen, grinning smugly, as if to say, fuck you, Michaels.

Stranz's slim form was not immediately familiar. "Tough break, guy," he finally said, and Chazz groaned.

Stranz's own medal (gold) glinted around his neck. "Where's your sister?" Chazz asked.

"Shopping." Stranz yawned. "Grams spoils her rotten after competition." He grinned sideways. "Women."

Chazz smirked; glasses clinked. "I feel that."

"- such an amazing opportunity," a televised MacElroy gloated.

Stranz glowered: "fuck that kid." Chazz snorted.

*

He saw Stranz once after the ban, their eyes meeting across a crowded food court. Chazz was alone. Fairchild was attached to Stranz's arm, chattering loudly, her facial expressions exaggerated like she expected people to be watching.

Stranz's face was politely blank, his nod barely perceptible. That's rough, man, his eyes seemed to say, and good luck, and see you around, though Chazz knew they both realized that wasn't true.

Their silent conversation must have lasted longer than intended, because Fairchild was soon peering at Chazz with a mixture of curiosity and indifference. The siblings turned away; neither looked back.

*

The next time Chazz saw Stranz, they were competing for the same medal. It didn't bother Chazz, not as much as rubbing spandex crotches with Jimmy MacElroy did. The same could not be said for Stranz.

He got it, really, that they were rivals now: their friendship had only existed in a dingy bar and even then, only barely. Still, it was weird, a forcible removal of the last of his old life. He tried to understand.

"Stranz and Fairchild didn't like us very much," Jimmy told him blandly after Nationals.

Chazz raised an eyebrow. "Fuck them," he said confidently.


End file.
